Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Dominican Republic and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Seeds to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by New Order. All the underground hits.
All Television tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Velvet Underground record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arthur Verocai record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Machine,
Underground Resistance,
Davy DMX,
Visage,
Traffic Nightmare,
Groovy Waters,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Music Machine,
Faust,
The United States of America,
the Sonics,
New York Dolls,
Marshall Jefferson,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Vogues,
Scratch Acid,
Ornette Coleman,
Goldenarms,
Franke,
June Days,
Thompson Twins,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Con Funk Shun,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Los Fastidios,
Trumans Water,
Whodini,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ultimate Spinach,
Matthew Bourne,
Organ,
David Bowie,
Clear Light,
Severed Heads,
Throbbing Gristle,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Letta Mbulu,
Simply Red,
Sparks,
Japan,
Jawbox,
Procol Harum,
Eddi Front,
Anakelly,
Rapeman,
Rosa Yemen,
Parry Music,
the Association,
Michelle Simonal,
Ronan,
Gabor Szabo,
Grauzone,
Sexual Harrassment,
Carl Craig,
Radiopuhelimet,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Mr. Review,
Rites of Spring,
Accadde A,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Crash Course in Science,
Crime,
Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.